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THE  TRANSFORMATION  OF 
MASSACHUSETTS 

NE  who  came  recently  to  Massa¬ 
chusetts  from  the  Rocky  Moun¬ 
tain  region  remarked,  “Massa¬ 
chusetts  has  some  of  the  ad¬ 
vantages  of  Adam:  she  started  first.”  While 
less  literally  true  of  Massachusetts  than  of 
Adam,  the  statement  has  some  bearing  on  our 
theme.  Try  to  see  a  few  pictures. 

I. 

1620-1920 

“Behold,  l  make  -all  things  nezv .'* 

“The  breaking  waves  dashed  high 
On  a  stern  and  rockbound  coast,*’ 

not  only  in  December,  1620,  but  for  a  long 
while  after  that.  Yet  something  more  than 
waves  and  rocks  was  continually  in  evi¬ 
dence.  First,  a  little  group  battling  with 
famine  and  disease,  and  almost  but  not  quite 
losing  the  battle.  Then,  an  established  com¬ 
munity,  small  but  reasonably  secure  and 
decently  prosperous.  After  that,  the  Colony 
of  Plymouth,  with  its  grouped  towns,  its 
free  life,  its  thriving  business. 

Next  comes  the  union  with  the  Massachu- 


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setts  Bay  Colony,  so  that  the  political  entity 
is  the  Commonwealth  of  Massachusetts, 
which,  instead  of  any  King,  God  is  officially 
implored  to  save,  in  all  public  proclama¬ 
tions.  The  “Old  Colony”  becomes  hence¬ 
forth  only  a  colloquial  name  with  no  defin¬ 
able  reality  to  correspond  to  it.  At  this 
stage  of  its  life,  Plymouth  is  a  typical  New 
England  community,  with  its  traditions  and 
its  opinions — a  town  of  one  great  church, 
whose  congregation  are  all  descended  on  at 
least  one  side  from  the  Mayflower  group, 
or  from  those  who  followed  hard  after  the 
Pilgrim  company.  Such  a  Plymouth  one 
sees  in  the  stories  of  Jane  Austin,  or  resur¬ 
rects  from  the  collected  articles  in  Pilgrim 
Hall. 

It  is  a  resurrection  from  beneath  a  mass 
of  change.  The  forty-one  voters  whose 
names  are  attached  to  the  famous  “com¬ 
pact”  of  the  Mayflower  cabin  have  become 
twenty-five  hundred.  Hunting  and  trading 
with  the  Indians  would  offer  small  prospect 
of  ability  to  conquer  the  high  cost  of  living. 
The  port  of  Plymouth  is  comparatively  of 
far  less  importance  than  it  was  in  the  earlier 
day.  The  Pilgrim  fathers  could  no  longer 
be  sure  that  they  might  maintain  on  this 


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lonely  shore  their  beloved  language  and 
their  own  chosen  church  without  the  let 
and  hindrance  that  come  from  rivalries  and 
competitions.  The  community  is  composite. 
Nationality  is  mixed.  One-third  of  the 
thirteen  thousand  folks  in  Plymouth  were 
born  in  foreign  lands,  and  only  a  little  more 
than  thirty-five  per  cent,  of  the  people  are 
of  stock  that  has  been  native  for  three  gen¬ 
erations.  Religion  is  mixed.  Where  the 
Pilgrims  maintained  their  one  democratic 
pastorless  church,  no  less  than  thirteen  de¬ 
nominations  are  established.  Outlying 
towns  and  villages  have  often  split  up  in 
the  same  way.  Struggling,  striving,  push¬ 
ing,  hauling,  such  churches  too  often  make 
of  their  denominational  shibboleths  a  penny 
wherewith  to  hide  the  sun  from  their  eyes. 
It  is  interesting  and  significant  that  the  one 
church  in  Plymouth  that  is  commonly 
spoken  of  by  name  rather  than  by  denom¬ 
inational  connection  is  the  Church  of  the 
Pilgrimage,  spiritual  successor  of  the  May¬ 
flower  passengers. 

The  modern  town  of  Plymouth  occupies 
itself  chiefly  with  manufacturing.  Over 
half  the  people  who  are  engaged  in  gainful 
occupation  derive  their  income  from  this 


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kind  of  work.  Some  of  the  most  famous 
and  profitable  enterprises  in  the  United 
States  are  located  here.  All  the  problems  of 
the  modern  industrial  community  naturally 
and  inevitably  exist — the  mixture  of  races, 
the  diversity  of  economic  conditions,  the 
variations  of  religion  and  irreligion,  the 
clash  or  the  chasm  between  idealism  and 
materialism,  between  the  traditionalist  and 
the  radical  modern.  Surely  no  one  who 
prizes  the  Pilgrim  heritage  can  think  of 
these  things  without  squaring  his  shoulders 
and  setting  himself  for  the  defense  of  the 
things  he  holds  dear. 

II. 

1756-1919 

" Establish  the  things  that  remain /' 

When  you  compare  the  eight  thousand 
two  hundred  and  sixty-six  square  miles  of 
Massachusetts  with  the  two  hundred  and 
sixty-five  thousand,  eight  hundred  and 
ninety-six  square  miles  of  Texas,  the  old 
Commonwealth  looks  small.  But  Massa¬ 
chusetts  has  within  fifteen  per  cent,  or  so 
as  many  people  as  Texas  has.  Except 
Rhode  Island,  it  is  the  most  densely  pop¬ 
ulated  of  the  American  commonwealths. 


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Small  as  she  is,  she  is  packed  tight  with 
human  life.  That  is,  she  is  packed  tight  in 
spots !  The  hill  country  is  different.  The 
Denver  man,  looking  away  from  the  majesty 
of  the  Rocky  Mountains  on  his  mile-high 
edge  of  the  great  plain,  may  think  that 
Greylock’s  thirty-three  hundred  feet  fit  it 
for  a  fairly  good  tee  for  a  golf  ball.  But 
if  you  have  to  climb  those  thirty-three  hun¬ 
dred  feet,  or  half  of  them,  you  think  of 
something  more  strenuous  than  golf.  Get¬ 
ting  up  a  “Jacob’s  Ladder”  is  a  discouraging 
experience  in  some  seasons  of  the  year,  and 
keeping  the  ladder  in  shape  for  smooth  go¬ 
ing  is  even  more  discouraging. 

Close  to  the  southeastern  corner  of  the 
Bay  State’s  hilliest  county  is  an  abandoned 
cellar  hole.  Here  once  stood  the  First 
Church  of  Christ  in  Sandisfield.  It  was  or¬ 
ganized  in  1756,  and  proceeded  with  prompt¬ 
ness  and  efficiency  to  the  business  of 
eighteenth  century  churches :  to  wit,  the 
training  of  men  in  the  ways  of  righteous¬ 
ness,  peace  and  prosperity.  It  sent  out  pio¬ 
neers  to  settle  the  prairies.  It  contributed 
leading  citizens  to  the  villages  and  cities 
that  sprang  up  in  the  valleys.  It  produced 
at  least  one  lieutenant  governor  of  the  Com- 


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monwealth.  It  was  a  brotherly  church,  too. 
Eight  years  after  the  Sandisfield  pioneers 
located  on  their  hill-top,  another  group  of 
travelers  came  over  the  hills  and  found  a 
broad  basin  to  which  they  gave  the  name  of 
Pittsfield.  In  course  of  time,  they  began 
the  building  of  a  meeting-house,  and  the 
Sandisfield  folk  hastened  to  lend  a  hand.  A 
collection  of  more  than  three  hundred  dol¬ 
lars  was  taken  and  sent  to  aid  the  First 
Church  of  Pittsfield  to  build  a  house  to  the 
glory  of  God. 

One  hundred  and  fifty  years  or  so  after 
that  collection  was  taken,  lightning  struck 
the  Sandisfield  meeting-house.  It  had  been 
left  stranded  for  years  by  the  passing  by 
of  the  railroad  to  other  places.  Meanwhile, 
Pittsfield  had  become  a  busy  manufacturing 
city,  with  a  population  increasing  by  leaps 
and  bounds.  Its  First  Church  now  raises 
and  expends  on  local  work  and  missionary 
outreach  nearly  or  quite  twenty  thousand 
dollars  a  year.  But  the  lightning  left  only 
a  cellar  hole  on  the  hill  where  its  elder  sister 
had  stood. 

The  cellar  hole  is  not  all.  The  new 
church  was  built  on  a  new  site.  As  the 
older  families  died  out  or  moved  away,  new 


people  came.  Some  of  them  were  Jews, 
who  clung  to  their  faith  and  were  too  prej¬ 
udiced  against  the  name  of  Christ  to  give 
the  church  a  ready  opportunity ;  but  some 
were  of  a  different  sort.  The  present  clerk 
of  the  church  bears  a  Finnish  name,  though 
she  does  her  work  in  the  spirit  of  New 
England’s  best  traditions.  Though  only 
ten  resident  members  are  on  the  roll  of  the 
church,  it  still  holds  its  place  as  the  spiritual 
center  of  the  little  community. 

If  you  measured  churches  as  you  do  fac¬ 
tories,  a  church  of  ten  members,  with  no 
clear  prospect  of  growth,  would  have  to 
be  sent  to  the  scrap-heap.  But  let  it  go 
there,  and  there  is  grave  danger  that  sooner 
or  later  another  decadent  community  will 
act  as  a  moral  fester  in  the  body  politic. 
The  Home  Missionary  Society  makes  no 
apology  for  using  part  of  Pittsfield’s  twenty 
thousand  dollars  to  help  Sandisfield  “carry 
on.” 

III. 

1820-1920 


“From  weakness  were  made  strong.” 

Not  many  miles  below  Northampton,  an 
ancient  overflow  of  lava  from  the  volcano 
now  called  Mount  Tom  pushed  the  Con- 


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necticut  River  a  mile  to  the  east  of  a  due 
north  and  south  course,  producing  a  sort  of 
promontory  which  slopes  quite  steeply  from 
high  ground  in  the  center  to  the  banks  of 
the  river.  At  the  end  of  the  eighteenth 
century  a  group  of  settlers  formed  on  the 
high  land  what  was  known  as  the  Ireland 
Parish  of  West  Springfield.  They  organ¬ 
ized  a  Congregational  church,  but  the  pres¬ 
ence  of  a  resourceful  group  of  Baptists  led 
to  the  organization  almost  immediately  of 
a  church  of  that  denomination,  also.  For  a 
quarter  of  a  century  the  two  churches 
united  in  supporting  Baptist  pastors.  In 
1823,  however,  there  were  those  who  were 
restless  under  such  an  arrangement,  and  the 
Domestic  Missionary  Society  of  Massachu¬ 
setts  sent  a  worker  into  the  field  for  eight 
weeks,  the  expense  being  met  by  gifts  made 
for  that  special  purpose. 

Four  years  later  the  churches  divided,  the 
Baptists  building  a  new  meeting-house  and 
the  Congregationalists  continuing  in  the  old 
building,  of  which  it  was  said  that  it  was 
owned  by  both  denominations  together  and 
would  bless  the  world  more  if  reduced  to 
ashes  than  if  suffered  to  stand.  Out  of  a 
population  of  five  hundred,  the  Congrega- 


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tionalists  claimed  fifty  families  to  the  Bap¬ 
tists  thirty-five,  but  the  Baptists  had  the 
greater  wealth,  the  total  valuation  of  the 
property  of  the  Congregationalists  being 
between  fifty  and  sixty  thousand  dollars. 
Not  only  had  this  church  no  building  of  its 
own,  but  it  had  never  had  a  Congregational 
pastor  and  had  never  kept  any  records. 

The  first  mention  of  the  work  in  a  pub¬ 
lished  report  is  presented  by  the  Domestic 
Missionary  Society  in  1827.  “The  situation 
of  this  parish  is  interesting.  The  Congre¬ 
gational  Church  in  it  has  received  consider¬ 
able  accessions  within  two  years,  and  sev¬ 
eral  members  express  their  opinion  that  the 
people  will  be  able  to  support  the  ministry 
there,  with  the  aid  of  seventy-five  dollars 
per  ann.  from  this  Society.”  The  several 
members  were  too  sanguine,  however,  for 
though  their  suggested  amount  was  not  ex¬ 
ceeded  for  a  year  or  two,  one  hundred  dol¬ 
lars  a  year  was  soon  found  to  be  necessary 
for  the  support  of  a  minister.  When  one 
finds  it  reported  that  the  pastor  received 
from  the  field  two  hundred  dollars,  it  is  seen 
that  he  did  not  work  for  great  gain  even  at 
the  larger  figure. 

By  1840,  however,  the  church  was  able  to 

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go  alone,  except  for  a  small  lift  in  1850, 
just  as  the  great  change  came  to  the  com¬ 
munity  it  served.  Down  in  the  river  bot¬ 
tom,  where  the  falls  of  South  Hadley  came 
pouring  over  the  rocks,  men  had  at  last  suc¬ 
ceeded  in  building  a  dam  and  drawing  the 
water  stored  above  it  back  and  forth  across 
the  lava  promontory  in  an  S  shaped  canal. 
A  railroad  was  built  to  connect  this  site 
with  the  newly  extended  Boston  and  Al¬ 
bany  Railroad,  and  the  opportunity  of  de¬ 
veloping  a  new  industrial  community  was 
offered.  In  1848,  the  home  missionary  was 
at  work  at  “Ireland  Depot,”  though  but  lit¬ 
tle  is  said  about  the  nature  and  success  of 
his  work.  By  1850,  however,  we  find  men¬ 
tion  of  “Holyoke,  the  name  recently  given 
to  the  ‘New  City’  on  the  Connecticut  River. 
Among  the  three  thousand  or  four  thousand 
souls  already  gathered  in  this  rival  to  Law¬ 
rence  and  Lowell,  a  Congregational  Church 
of  about  twenty  members  was  organized 
during  the  past  year,  but  they  cannot  as  yet 
sustain  a  minister  without  missionary  aid.” 
The  next  year  the  church  is  properly  named 
as  the  Second  Church  in  Holyoke,  and  com¬ 
ment  is  made  as  follows:  “By  reason  of 
the  stagnation  of  business  in  this  new  man- 


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ufacturing  ‘city/  many  of  the  most  reliable 
members  have  removed.”  In  1852  we  read, 
“By  a  great  effort  the  Society  have  paid  off 
their  debt,  and  sustained  preaching,  having 
received  some  aid  therein  from  the  Manu¬ 
facturing  Company  and  other  benevolent 
individuals.”  “The  pulpit  has  been  supplied 
chiefly  by  the  professors  of  Amherst  Col¬ 
lege,”  is  the  next  year’s  note.  “When  the 
new  meeting-house,  now  going  up,  is  com¬ 
pleted,  a  permanent  ministry  will  be  sus¬ 
tained  without  aid  from  this  Society.”  For 
four  years  this  prediction  seemed  to  be  in 
process  of  smooth  fulfillment,  but  the 
church  appears  again  in  1857,  where  we  are 
told,  “This  church,  founded,  and  for  years 
fostered,  by  the  funds  of  this  Society,  has 
been  brought  back  to  its  former  dependence 
on  missionary  aid,  solely  by  depression  of 
manufacturing  interests  in  the  place.”  This 
dependence  continued  for  no  less  than  eight 
years,  during  which  there  is  mention  of 
much  fluctuation  of  business  and  instability 
of  the  population.  Ten  years  from  the 
founding  of  the  church  only  two  of  the  orig¬ 
inal  members  were  left.  Sectarian  move¬ 
ments  drew  some  away,  the  charge  being 
made  that  pecuniary  considerations  were 


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sometimes  used  to  accomplish  such  a  re¬ 
sult.  One  pastorate  was  wrecked  and  an¬ 
other  begun  before  the  last  appearance  of 
the  church  in  the  aided  lists,  in  1864. 

.  1919  finds  Holyoke  secured,  as  well  as 
diversity  of  business  and  accumulation  of 
resources  can  secure  any  city,  against  the 
sort  of  depression  that  threatened  the  life 
of  the  city  and  the  church  in  the  middle  of 
the  nineteenth  century.  The  “Ireland  Par¬ 
ish”  church,  moved  from  its  rural  surround¬ 
ings  to  the  center  of  the  residence  district 
of  the  city,  maintains  its  ministry  to  the 
community  in  a  fine  brick  edifice,  by  means 
of  the  interest,  the  devotion  and  the  gifts 
of  more  than  five  hundred  members.  The 
church  of  “about  twenty”  has  grown  until 
it  can  report  one  thousand  three  hundred 
and  seventy-five  members ;  while  Grace 
Church,  organized  as  a  branch  of  the  Second 
Church,  and  still  part  of  the  same  corporate 
organization,  includes  one  thousand  and 
eighty-five  more.  Situated  on  the  main 
business  street  of  the  city,  with  a  plant  soon 
to  be  reconstructed  into  ideal  fitness  for 
diversified  service,  with  generous  appro¬ 
priations  for  maintaining  an  adequate  staff 
of  workers,  with  a  large  proportion  of  its 


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membership  giving  time  and  thought  to  the 
interests  of  the  Kingdom  of  God,  at  home 
and  abroad,  the  Second  Church  justly  claims 
place  among  the  leading  churches  of  our 
order. 

Successes  like  these  can  hardly  await 
many  of  the  churches  of  the  old  Common¬ 
wealth  now  looking  for  and  receiving  the 
help  of  their  more  prosperous  sisters.  But 
the  transformation  wrought  in  changing 
Holyoke  from  a  lonely  height  to  a  busy  city 
is  typical  of  Massachusetts  history.  In  such 
places  lie  our  problems,  in  such  places  our 
opportunities,  in  such  places,  to  some  ex¬ 
tent,  thank  God,  our  successes. 


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THE  CONGREGATIONAL  HOME 
MISSIONARY  SOCIETY 

287  FOURTH  AVENUE,  NEW  YORK 


